ISTMAS  SERMON 

SRT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT   OF   CAPT.   AND    MRS. 
PAUL  MCBRIDE  PERIGORD 


UNIVERSITY  of  CALlFOKNii 

AT 
LOS  ANGELES 

LIBRARY 


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A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 


A 

CHRISTMAS 
SERMON 

BY 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson 


i*./ 


NEW  YORK 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 

1900 


1443  43 


Copyright,  1900,  by  Charles  Scrihner's  Sons 


D.  B.  Updike,  The  Merrymount  Press,  Boston 


A 
CHRISTMAS    SERMON 

BY  the  time  this  paper  appears, 
I  shall  have  been  talking  for 
twelve  months  ;^  and  it  is  thought 
I  should  take  my  leave  in  a  formal 
and  seasonable  manner.  Valedictory 
eloquence  is  rare,  and  death-bed  say- 
ings have  not  often  hit  the  mark  of 
the  occasion.  Charles  Second,  wit 
and  sceptic,  a  man  whose  life  had 
been  one  long  lesson  in  human  in- 
credulity, an  easy-going  comrade,  a 
manoeuvring  king — remembered  and 
embodied  all  his  wit  and  scepticism 
along  with  more  than  his  usual  good 
humour  in  the  famous  "I  am  afraid, 
gentlemen,  I  am  an  unconscionable 
time  a-dying." 

1 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

I 

J\N  unconscionable  time  a-dying — 
there  is  the  picture  ("I  am  afraid, 
gentlemen,")  of  your  life  and  of  mine. 
The  sands  run  out,  and  the  hours  are 
"numbered  and  imputed,"  and  the 
days  go  by ;  and  when  the  last  of 
these  finds  us,  we  have  been  a  long 
time  dying,  and  what  else  ?  The  very 
length  is  something,  if  we  reach  that 
hour  of  separation  undishonoured ; 
and  to  have  lived  at  all  is  doubtless 
(in  the  soldierly  expression)  to  have 
served.  There  is  a  tale  in  Tacitus  of 
how  the  veterans  mutinied  in  the  Ger- 
man wilderness  ;  of  how  they  mobbed 
Germanicus,  clamouring  to  go  home ; 
and  of  how,  seizing  their  general's 
hand,  these  old,  war-worn  exiles 
passed  his  finger  along  their  tooth- 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

less  gums.  Sunt  lacrymce  rerum :  this 
was  the  most  eloquent  of  the  songs 
of  Simeon.  And  when  a  man  has 
lived  to  a  fair  age,  he  bears  his  marks 
of  service.  He  may  have  never  been 
remarked  upon  the  breach  at  the  head 
of  the  army ;  at  least  he  shall  have 
lost  his  teeth  on  the  camp  bread. 

The  idealism  of  serious  people  in 
this  age  of  ours  is  of  a  noble  char- 
acter. It  never  seems  to  them  that 
they  have  served  enough ;  they  have 
a  fine  impatience  of  their  virtues.  It 
were  perhaps  more  modest  to  be 
singly  thankful  that  we  are  no  worse. 
It  is  not  only  our  enemies,  those  des- 
perate characters — it  is  we  ourselves 
who  know  not  what  we  do; — thence 
springs  the  glimmering  hope  that 
perhaps  we  do  better  than  we  think: 
that  to  scramble  through  this  random 
3 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

business  with  hands  reasonably  clean, 
to  have  played  the  part  of  a  man  or 
woman  with  some  reasonable  fulness, 
to  have  often  resisted  the  diabolic, 
and  at  the  end  to  be  still  resisting  it, 
is  for  the  poor  human  soldier  to  have 
done  right  well.  To  ask  to  see  some 
fruit  of  our  endeavour  is  but  a  tran- 
scendental way  of  serving  for  reward ; 
and  what  we  take  to  be  contempt  of 
self  is  only  greed  of  hire. 

And  again  if  we  require  so  much 
of  ourselves,  shall  we  not  require 
much  of  others  ?  If  we  do  not  ge- 
nially judge  our  own  deficiencies,  is 
it  not  to  be  feared  we  shall  be  even 
stern  to  the  trespasses  of  others  ?  And 
he  who  (looking  back  upon  his  own 
life)  can  see  no  more  than  that  he 
has  been  unconscionably  long  a-dy- 
ing,  will  he  not  be  tempted  to  think 
4 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

his  neighbour  unconscionably  long  of 
getting  hanged  ?  It  is  probable  that 
nearly  all  who  think  of  conduct  at 
all,  think  of  it  too  much  ;  it  is  certain 
we  all  think  too  much  of  sin.  We  are 
not  damned  for  doing  wrong,  but  for 
not  doing  right;  Christ  would  never 
hear  of  negative  morality  ;  thou  shalt 
was  ever  his  word,  with  which  he 
superseded  thou  shalt  not.  To  make 
our  idea  of  morality  centre  on  for- 
bidden acts  is  to  defile  the  imagina- 
tion and  to  introduce  into  our  judg- 
ments of  our  fellow-men  a  secret  ele- 
ment of  gusto.  If  a  thing  is  wrong 
for  us,  we  should  not  dwell  upon  the 
thought  of  it ;  or  we  shall  soon  dwell 
upon  it  with  inverted  pleasure.  If  we 
cannot  drive  it  from  our  minds — one 
thing  of  two :  either  our  creed  is  in 
the  wrong  and  we  must  more  indul- 
5 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

gently  remodel  it ;  or  else,  if  our  mo- 
rality be  in  the  right,  we  are  criminal 
lunatics  and  should  place  our  persons 
in  restraint.  A  mark  of  such  unwhole- 
somely  divided  minds  is  the  passion 
for  interference  with  others :  the  Fox 
without  the  Tail  was  of  this  breed, 
but  had  (if  his  biographer  is  to  be 
trusted)  a  certain  antique  civility 
now  out  of  date.  A  man  may  have  a 
flaw,  a  weakness,  that  unfits  him  for 
the  duties  of  life,  that  spoils  his  tem- 
per, that  threatens  his  integrity,  or 
that  betrays  him  into  cruelty.  It  has 
to  be  conquered ;  but  it  must  never 
be  suffered  to  engross  his  thoughts. 
The  true  duties  he  all  upon  the  far- 
ther side,  and  must  be  attended  to 
with  a  whole  mind  so  soon  as  this 
preliminary  clearing  of  the  decks  has 
been  effected.  In  order  that  he  may 
6 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

be  kind  and  honest,  it  may  be  need- 
ful he  should  become  a  total  ab- 
stainer ;  let  him  become  so  then,  and 
the  next  day  let  him  forget  the  cir- 
cumstance. Trying  to  be  kind  and 
honest  will  require  all  his  thoughts ; 
a  mortified  appetite  is  never  a  wise 
companion ;  in  so  far  as  he  has  had 
to  mortify  an  appetite,  he  will  still 
be  the  worse  man ;  and  of  such  an 
one  a  great  deal  of  cheerfulness  will 
be  required  in  judging  life,  and  a 
great  deal  of  humihty  in  judging 
others. 

It  may  be  argued  again  that  dis- 
satisfaction with  our  life's  endeavour 
springs  in  some  degree  from  dulness. 
We  require  higher  tasks,  because  we 
do  not  recognise  the  height  of  those 
we  have.  Trying  to  be  kind  and  hon- 
est seems  an  affair  too  simple  and  too 
7 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

inconsequential  for  gentlemen  of  our 
heroic  mould ;  we  had  rather  set  our- 
selves to  something  bold,  arduous, 
and  conclusive ;  we  had  rather  found 
a  schism  or  suppress  a  heresy,  cut  off 
a  hand  or  mortify  an  appetite.  But 
the  task  before  us,  which  is  to  co- 
endure  with  our  existence,  is  rather 
one  of  microscopic  fineness,  and  the 
heroism  required  is  that  of  patience. 
There  is  no  cutting  of  the  Gordian 
knots  of  life  ;  each  must  be  smilingly 
unravelled. 

To  be  honest,  to  be  kind — to  earn 
a  httle  and  to  spend  a  little  less,  to 
make  upon  the  whole  a  family  hap- 
pier for  his  presence,  to  renounce  when 
that  shall  be  necessary  and  not  be 
embittered,  to  keep  a  few  friends  but 
these  without  capitulation — above 
all,  on  the  same  grim  condition,  to 
8 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

keep  friends  with  himself — here  is  a 
task  for  all  that  a  man  has  of  forti- 
tude and  deUcacy.  He  has  an  ambi- 
tious soul  who  would  ask  more;  he 
has  a  hopeful  spirit  who  should  look 
in  such  an  enterprise  to  be  success- 
ful. There  is  indeed  one  element  in 
human  destiny  that  not  blindness  it- 
self can  controvert :  whatever  else  we 
are  intended  to  do,  we  are  not  in- 
tended to  succeed ;  failure  is  the  fate 
allotted.  It  is  so  in  every  art  and 
study ;  it  is  so  above  all  in  the  con- 
tinent art  of  living  well.  Here  is  a 
pleasant  thought  for  the  year's  end  or 
for  the  end  of  life :  Only  self-decep- 
tion will  be  satisfied,  and  there  need 
be  no  despair  for  the  despairer. 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

II 

JjUT  Christmas  is  not  only  the 
mile-mark  of  another  year,  moving 
us  to  thoughts  of  self-examination : 
it  is  a  season,  from  all  its  associations, 
whether  domestic  or  religious,  sug- 
gesting thoughts  of  joy.  A  man  dis- 
satisfied with  his  endeavours  is  a  man 
tempted  to  sadness.  And  in  the  midst 
of  the  winter,  when  his  life  runs  low- 
est and  he  is  reminded  of  the  empty 
chairs  of  his  beloved,  it  is  well  he 
should  be  condemned  to  this  fashion 
of  the  smiling  face.  Noble  disappoint- 
ment, noble  self-denial  are  not  to  be 
admired,  not  even  to  be  pardoned,  if 
they  bring  bitterness.  It  is  one  thing 
to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  maim ; 
another  to  maim  yourself  and  stay 
without.  And  the  kingdom  of  heaven 

10 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

is  of  the  childlike,  of  those  who  are 
easy  to  please,  who  love  and  who  give 
pleasure.  Mighty  men  of  their  hands, 
the  smiters  and  the  builders  and  the 
judges,  have  lived  long  and  done 
sternly  and  yet  preserved  this  lovely 
character ;  and  among  our  carpet  in- 
terests and  twopenny  concerns,  the 
shame  were  indehble  if  we  should 
lose  it.  Gentleness  and  cheerfulness, 
these  come  before  all  morality ;  they 
are  the  perfect  duties.  And  it  is  the 
trouble  with  moral  men  that  they 
have  neither  one  nor  other.  It  was 
the  moral  man,  the  Pharisee,  whom 
Christ  could  not  away  with.  If  your 
morals  make  you  dreary,  depend  upon 
it  they  are  wrong.  I  do  not  say  "give 
them  up,"  for  they  may  be  all  you 
have;  but  conceal  them  like  a  vice, 
lest  they  should  spoil  the  hves  of  bet- 
11 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

ter  and  simpler  people. 

A  strange  temptation  attends  upon 
man :  to  keep  his  eye  on  pleasures, 
even  when  he  will  not  share  in  them  ; 
to  aim  all  his  morals  against  them. 
This  very  year  a  lady  (singular  icon- 
oclast ! )  proclaimed  a  crusade  against 
dolls ;  and  the  racy  sermon  against 
lust  is  a  feature  of  the  age.  I  venture 
to  call  such  moralists  insincere.  At 
any  excess  or  perversion  of  a  natural 
appetite,  their  lyre  sounds  of  itself 
with  relishing  denunciations ;  but  for 
all  displays  of  the  truly  diabolic — 
envy,  malice,  the  mean  lie,  the  mean 
silence,   the    calumnious    truth,    the 
backbiter,  the  petty  tyrant,  the  pee- 
vish  poisoner   of   family   life — their 
standard  is  quite  different.  These  are 
wrong,  they  will  admit,  yet  somehow 
not  so  wrong ;  there  is  no  zeal  in  their 

12 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

assault  on  them,  no  secret  element  of 
gusto  warms  up  the  sermon ;  it  is  for 
things  not  wrong  in  themselves  that 
they  reserve  the  choicest  of  their  in- 
dignation. A  man  may  naturally  dis- 
claim all  moral  kinship  with  the  Rev- 
erend INIr.  Zola  or  the  hobgoblin  old 
lady  of  the  dolls ;  for  these  are  gross 
and  naked  instances.  And  yet  in  each 
of  us  some  similar  element  resides. 
The  sight  of  a  pleasure  in  which  we 
cannot  or  else  will  not  share  moves 
us  to  a  particular  impatience.  It  may 
be  because  we  are  envious,  or  because 
we  are  sad,  or  because  we  dislike  noise 
and  romping — being  so  refined,  or 
because — being  so  philosophic — we 
have  an  overweighing  sense  of  life's 
gravity:  at  least,  as  we  go  on  in 
years,  we  are  all  tempted  to  frown 
upon  our  neighbour's  pleasures.  Peo- 

13 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

pie  are  nowadays  so  fond  of  resisting 
temptations ;  here  is  one  to  be  re- 
sisted. They  are  fond  of  self-denial ; 
here  is  a  propensity  that  cannot  be 
too  peremptorily  denied.  There  is  an 
idea  abroad  among  moral  people  that 
they  should  make  their  neighbours 
good.  One  person  I  have  to  make 
good :  myself.  But  my  duty  to  my 
neighbour  is  much  more  nearly  ex- 
pressed by  saying  that  I  have  to 
make  him  happy — if  I  may. 


14 


A  CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

III 
Happiness  and  goodness,  ac- 
cording to  canting  moralists,  stand 
in  the  relation  of  effect  and  cause. 
There  was  never  anything  less  proved 
or  less  probable :  our  happiness  is  never 
in  our  own  hands ;  we  inherit  our 
constitution ;  we  stand  buffet  among 
friends  and  enemies ;  we  may  be  so 
built  as  to  feel  a  sneer  or  an  asper- 
sion with  unusual  keenness,  and  so 
circumstanced  as  to  be  unusually  ex- 
posed to  them ;  we  may  have  nerves 
very  sensitive  to  pain,  and  be  afflicted 
with  a  disease  very  painful.  Virtue 
will  not  help  us,  and  it  is  not  meant 
to  help  us.  It  is  not  even  its  own  re- 
ward, except  for  the  self-centred  and 
— I  had  almost  said — the  unamiable. 
No  man  can  pacify  his  conscience  ;  if 

15 


A    CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

quiet  be  what  he  want,  he  shall  do 
better  to  let  that  organ  perish  from 
disuse.  And  to  avoid  the  penalties  of 
the  law,  and  the  minor  capitis  diini- 
nutio  of  social  ostracism,  is  an  affair 
of  wisdom — of  cunning,  if  you  will — 
and  not  of  virtue. 

In  his  own  life,  then,  a  man  is  not 
to  expect  happiness,  only  to  profit 
by  it  gladly  when  it  shall  arise ;  he  is 
on  duty  here ;  he  knows  not  how  or 
why,  and  does  not  need  to  know ;  he 
knows  not  for  what  hire,  and  must 
not  ask.  Somehow  or  other,  though 
he  does  not  know  what  goodness  is, 
he  must  try  to  be  good ;  somehow  or 
other,  though  he  cannot  tell  what 
will  do  it,  he  must  try  to  give  happi- 
ness to  others.  And  no  doubt  there 
comes  in  here  a  frequent  clash  of 
duties.  How  far  is  he  to  make  his 
16 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

neighbour  happy  ?  How  far  must  he 
respect  that  smihng  face,  so  easy  to 
cloud,  so  hard  to  brighten  again  ? 
And  how  far,  on  the  other  side,  is 
he  bound  to  be  his  brother's  keeper 
and  the  prophet  of  his  own  moraUty? 
How  far  must  he  resent  evil  ? 

The  difficulty  is  that  we  have  little 
guidance ;  Christ's  sayings  on  the 
point  being  hard  to  reconcile  with 
each  other,  and  (the  most  of  them) 
hard  to  accept.  But  the  truth  of  his 
teaching  would  seem  to  be  this  :  in 
our  own  person  and  fortune,  we  should 
be  ready  to  accept  and  to  pardon  all ; 
it  is  our  cheek  we  are  to  turn,  ow  coat 
that  we  are  to  give  away  to  the  man 
who  has  taken  our  cloak.  But  when 
another's  face  is  buffeted,  perhaps  a 
httle  of  the  lion  will  become  us  best. 
That  we  are  to  suffer  others  to  be 
17 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

injured,  and  stand  by,  is  not  conceiv- 
able and  surely  not  desirable.  Re- 
venge, says  Bacon,  is  a  kind  of  wild 
justice ;  its  judgments  at  least  are 
delivered  by  an  insane  judge;  and  in 
our  own  quarrel  we  can  see  nothing 
truly  and  do  nothing  wisely.  But  in 
the  quarrel  of  our  neighbour,  let  us 
be  more  bold.  One  person's  happiness 
is  as  sacred  as  another's;  when  we 
cannot  defend  both,  let  us  defend 
one  with  a  stout  heart.  It  is  only  in 
so  far  as  we  are  doing  this,  that  we 
have  any  right  to  interfere:  the  de- 
fence of  B  is  our  only  ground  of 
action  against  A.  A  has  as  good  a 
right  to  go  to  the  devil,  as  we  to  go 
to  glory  ;  and  neither  knows  what  he 
does. 

The  truth  is  that  all  these  inter- 
ventions and  denunciations  and  mili- 

18 


A  CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

tant  mongerings  of  moral  half-truths, 
though  they  be  sometimes  needful, 
though  they  are  often  enjoyable,  do 
yet  belong  to  an  inferior  grade  of 
duties.  Ill-temper  and  envy  and  re- 
venge find  here  an  arsenal  of  pious 
disguises ;  this  is  the  playground  of 
inverted  lusts.  With  a  httle  more 
patience  and  a  little  less  temper,  a 
gentler  and  wiser  method  might  be 
found  in  almost  every  case;  and  the 
knot  that  we  cut  by  some  fine  heady 
quarrel-scene  in  private  hfe,  or,  in 
pubhc  affairs,  by  some  denunciatory 
act  against  what  we  are  pleased  to 
call  our  neighbour's  vices,  might  yet 
have  been  unwoven  by  the  hand  of 
sympathy. 


19 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

JL  O  look  back  upon  the  past  year, 
and  see  how  Uttle  we  have  striven 
and  to  what  small  purpose :  and  how 
often  we  have  been  cowardly  and 
hung  back,  or  temerarious  and  rushed 
unwisely  in ;  and  how  every  day  and 
all  day  long  we  have  transgressed  the 
law  of  kindness ; — it  may  seem  a  para- 
dox, but  in  the  bitterness  of  these  dis- 
coveries, a  certain  consolation  resides. 
Life  is  not  designed  to  minister  to  a 
man's  vanity.  He  goes  upon  his  long 
business  most  of  the  time  with  a 
hanging  head,  and  all  the  time  like 
a  blind  child.  Full  of  rewards  and 
pleasures  as  it  is — so  that  to  see  the 
day  break  or  the  moon  rise,  or  to 
meet  a  friend,  or  to  hear  the  dinner- 
call  when  he  is  hungry,  fills  him  with 

20 


A   CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

surprising  joys — this  world  is  yet  for 
him  no  abiding  city.  Friendships  fall 
through,  health  fails,  weariness  assails 
him ;  year  after  year,  he  must  thumb 
the  hardly  varying  record  of  his  own 
weakness  and  folly.  It  is  a  friendly 
process  of  detachment.  When  the 
time  comes  that  he  should  go,  there 
need  be  few  illusions  left  about  him- 
self. Here  lies  one  who  meant  well, 
tried  a  little,  failed  much: — surely 
that  may  be  his  epitaph,  of  which  he 
need  not  be  ashamed.  Nor  will  he 
complain  at  the  summons  which  calls 
a  defeated  soldier  from  the  field :  de- 
feated, ay,  if  he  were  Paul  or  Marcus 
Aurelius ! — but  if  there  is  still  one 
inch  of  fight  in  his  old  spirit,  undis- 
honoured.  The  faith  which  sustained 
him  in  his  life-long  blindness  and  life- 
long disappointment  will  scarce  even 


21 


A  CHRISTMAS   SERMON 

be  required  in  this  last  formality  of 
laying  down  his  arms.  Give  him  a 
march  with  his  old  bones ;  there,  out 
of  the  glorious  sun-coloured  earth, 
out  of  the  day  and  the  dust  and  the 
ecstasy — there  goes  another  Faithful 
Failure ! 

From  a  recent  book  of  verse,  where 
there  is  more  than  one  such  beautiful 
and  manly  poem,  I  take  this  memo- 
rial piece :  it  says  better  than  I  can, 
what  I  love  to  think;  let  it  be  our 
parting  word. 

"^  late  lark  twitters  from  the  quiet  skies ; 
And  from  the  west, 
Where  the  sun,  his  day's  work  ended. 
Lingers  as  in  content, 
There  Jails  on  the  old,  gray  city 
An  influence  luminous  and  serene, 
A  shining  peace. 


22 


A  CHRISTMAS  SERMON 

"The  smoke  ascends 
In  a  rosy-and-golden  haze.  The  spires 
Shiyie,  and  are  changed.  In  the  valley 
Shadows  rise.  The  lark  sings  on.  The  sun. 
Closing  his  benediction, 
Sinks,  and  the  darkening  air 
Thrills  with  a  sense  of  the  triumphing  night — 
Night,  with  her  train  of  stars 
And  her  great  gifi  of  sleep. 

"So  be  my  passing ! 
My  task  accomplished  and  the  long  day  done, 
My  wages  taken,  and  in  my  heart 
Some  late  lark  singing. 
Let  me  be  gathered  to  the  quiet  west, 
The  sundown  splendid  and  serene. 
Death:"  ^ 

[1888.] 


23 


144343 


NOTES 

'  i.  e.    In    the    pages    of  Scribner's    Magazine 
(1888). 

^  From   A   Book  of  Verses    by    William   Ernest 
Henley.  D.  Nutt,  1888. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


JUM  zy    1933 
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^W7     1983 

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